


An Unfortunate Boner

by DarlingDarling (Chtuluchilipie)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I don't know what I'm doing tbh, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Pining, i can't help but write fluffy crap, or at least it's fluffy for me, spirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chtuluchilipie/pseuds/DarlingDarling
Summary: He liked Spock, in both ways. He thought Spock was a great person, brilliant, innovative, unexpectedly hilarious, and all around a joy to be around. He also just so happened to think Spock was incredibly hot and fuckable.Nothing would come of it, he was sure. His mind liked Spock, and so did his dick. No biggie.Or so he tried to tell himself.





	1. If Blue is The Warmest Colour, Green is Most Certainly the Sexiest

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. First time writing for Star Trek. I have no idea what I'm doing. This has been sitting in my drafts since last year.   
> This'll probably be somewhere around 3 chapters. Maybe more?? Read if you want. I kinda deviated from my original plan.
> 
> If you read, I'd really appreciate a comment or kudos, or two. Let me know how I'm doing. Please and thanks :•)

 

The fact of the matter was that James Tiberius Kirk was deeply troubled.

In all fairness, that wasn't really too far out of the ordinary. Usually there was some sort of catastrophe to grapple with minor or major; someone developing a case of the space worms, diplomatic tensions, cultural misunderstandings, strange unexplained events in the far reaches of known space, extracting his crew from life or death situations, and when things like that weren't driving him absolutely insane, he had other wonderful things to worry about. Things like avoiding a hypo-happy McCoy who seemed to enjoy hypoing Jim a little too much, things like Spock disapproving of him, Sulu and Chekov refusing to acknowledge each other for a week and a half, whatever weird thing that was going on between Scotty and Uhura, and his biggest minor stressor as of late— hiding his massive crush on Spock from Spock.

Somewhere between now and then, things had changed.

Jim wasn't sure when, or where, or even how, but the evidence was concrete.

Or as concrete as a massive hard on that he'd earned from watching Spock grapple with an overeager ensign in his red uniform, nothing but a prowling panther in his grace, elegance, and lethality. Spock was always a right sight when he fought, and you couldn't really blame Jim for the overwhelming attraction he felt after watching Spock take down another ensign without so much as a blink. Not even a single hair out of place, no visible sheen of sweat or exertion. It made a guy vividly wonder what would reduce him to a sweaty, panting mess.

He wasn't sure when his overwhelming attraction started, or how or why—it honestly felt as though it was randomly sprung upon him. It felt as though one day he opened his eyes, feeling both amazed and confused, his softening dick in his left hand, his cum splattered on his fingers and shirt, pondering over why thoughts of Spock had surfaced more than once during a routine jerk-off session.

The first time it happened, he didn't think much of it.

Sometimes shit like that happened. It was no big to deal to jerk himself off and for his mind to wander to Spock as he achieved orgasm. Spock was a well built, incredibly smart and distressingly attractive person. Jim wasn't blind, after all. Surely, it didn't mean a thing. You could find a friend sexually attractive, and that could be the end of it.

The second time it happened, he shrugged it off—once again. By the eighth time, he was beginning to stress a little, and by the ninth he was masturbating while pointedly thinking of Spock— mouth and eyes wide, chest heaving as images flashed through his mind, thoughts and sights and sounds and tastes all the while thinking; _"What have you done to me?" "What makes_ you _so special?"_

By this point he realized he really was attracted to his first officer, and there was nothing to be done for said attraction.

He tried to cover it up of course, subdue it, refuse to linger on it or let the attraction flame into a full blown crush—or even infatuation. He held respect and a high regard for Spock, as well as a deep physical and sexual attraction, but the point was that nothing was to come of it.

Nothing would.  
Nothing should.  
Nothing could.

His feelings were separate. So, what? He wouldn't have any qualms about fucking or getting fucked by one of his favorite people. He liked Spock, in both ways. He thought Spock was a great person, brilliant, innovative, unexpectedly hilarious, and all around a joy to be around. He also just so happened to think Spock was incredibly hot and fuckable.

Nothing would come of it, he was sure. His mind liked Spock, and so did his dick. No biggie. It wasn't as if his heart liked Spock a lot too.

Or so he tried to tell himself.

Jim wasn't willing to fully admit to himself that maybe he might possibly have romantic feelings for Spock, as well as an insatiable lust and platonic admiration,  
until he'd been splayed across his bed, jerking off to a picture on his data pad he'd taken during their last shore leave. On four separate occasions. Coupled with actual fucking stomach fluttering whenever Spock came up from behind him to announce something, and his heart in his throat whenever he caught Spock looking especially beautiful whilst performing mundane tasks. Which meant it felt as though his heart was in his throat several times a day. And it still didn't sink in until he realized he'd stopped calling Spock hot, sexy, or bangable (which he still was, by the way) and moved on to things like _beautiful_ , _gorgeous_ , and a word so full of admiration, respect, adoration and shock at seeing such a beautiful person that seemed so perfect despite their many flaws and seemed all the more perfect for it—that probably didn't exist in any language Jim knew of.

This, he came to realize, much later on down the road, was the beginnings of love. Fresh, new, tender and precious, but love all the same.

But in this moment, Jim was fully aware that nothing could come of it, that nothing would come of it, but that didn't stop the hoping. The hoping that curved along like a pale glimmer on his heart that he refused to acknowledge. No, he would sternly think. Nothing is going to ever happen. Nothing can and nothing will.

Mostly due to the fact that Spock was essentially a married man. "Not quite married but more than engaged," Uhura had explained to him when he'd felt his eyes glaze over and his attention waning from her overly complicated explanation. Not that he couldn't keep up with it, it simply bored him.

But still, the point was still valid. Spock was taken. Off the market. Besides, Jim's feelings were innately sexual, nothing more nothing less. Yes, he held a deep regard and everlasting affection, respect and admiration for Spock—but those just came with deep attraction and insatiable lust. He didn't have romantic feelings for Spock, and even _if_ he did (as he tended to internally argue with himself incessantly over whether or not he had feelings for Spock), it didn't matter. Because Spock was completely off the market. Jim knew that, he understood and respected that—he would not in any way push those boundaries.

So Jim did his best to smother his lust, although sometimes his crew noticed, they were kind enough not to comment or ask, although an eyebrow or two was definitely raised. He became content with the current state of affairs. Or at least, tried or pretended to.

He ate his breakfasts by himself, took showers while Spock meditated, reported to the bridge, worked out whilst trying not to look at Spock too much in those tight red workout clothes, ate dinner with his senior officers, had a drink with Bones, sat in the garden with Sulu, played chess with Spock, shared music with Uhura— and all sorts of other things, among them chiefly; trying not to stare at Spock, trying not to think too much about Spock, trying to hold his attraction for Spock from Spock, trying and failing not to think of Spock while jerking off.

While there was some unpleasant aspects to it all, Jim tried to relish in the episodic nature of their mission, of easing into the daily routine, of enjoying the monotony, especially since it meant that they weren't in any pressing danger.

But the fact of the matter was that he couldn't, while it was easy to accept the recycled everything, he felt an itch at the base of his spine— a visceral need for adventure, or maybe a really good fucking . Either way, when shore leave finally came around, Jim relished in it.

Due to the timing of things as well as some serious damage to the ship, their leave which usually would have been 2 weeks, was stretched into 8 weeks. Star Fleet figured they could use the break, so they weren't assigned anything or expected to return for a bit. Paid vacation, which while unusual, wasn't something Jim would fight against or complain about.

Usually when they were off-duty, it became normal to cluster together. It was a problem starfleet officers usually had to cope with— to go from constantly being around others to having loads of space (ha! Space...) was a jarring transition . It wasn't unheard of for coworkers who weren't extremely close to room together anyway, since they'd gotten accustomed to the near-constant contact. It tended to unnerve star fleet officers who'd been in relatively close quarters for several months to go to wide expansive worlds without near constant contact and set routines.

That being said, usually Jim piggybacked on wherever one of his officers were going. He'd crashed a family reunion with Rand once, which had been a near disaster since almost everyone thought they were together. He'd spent a shore leave with Sulu once or twice, met his husband and their wonderful daughter, and Chekov even tagged along too on one occasion. Other times, it'd been Uhura and Scotty's vacations that he'd crashed, since the two were surprisingly close. He actually spent a fair amount of time on extended shore leave with Uhura. He'd even tagged along on Uhura's trips with Spock too, and weirdly enough hadn't actually crashed one of Spock's things without anyone else coming along.  
Usually it was Bones that he crashed with, which came as no surprise to anyone, since they'd been best buds since their academy days.

This time around, they took their leave on a Federation planet not unlike Earth, except with more rainfall, and higher sea levels. As such, there were very few deserts on its surface, and very many island chains and peninsulas. The dual setting suns tinged the sky a deep blue violet just before inching behind the mountains, and due to planet side laws, all lights above a certain wattage were to be shut off past 2300 on weekdays, so the stars were out in full capacity most late nights. Clubs or late night lounges were equipped with some sort of light blocking glass, that allowed party-goers to see outside, but for the lights to stay inside and not permeate through the glass. The technology was fairly new, and very impressive. Light pollution was a serious issue on most planets and star bases, and Jim had no doubt this would provide some sort of solution.

His and Bones' flat overlooked the capital city Oth, which was a stunning and eclectic mix of nature and cutting edge urban beauty.

The city gleamed something gorgeous, glass planes shining as sunshine rain fell. The glass of the high rises reflected the pale pink-red-violets of the sky as the first sun began to set, and the dark steely blue buildings complemented it perfectly. To the south, you could make out the waterfall and river that divided the city in half, large trees and plants growing on its banks.

They had managed to maintain some degree of the forest that had once been here, buildings shaped around large ancient trees, younger newer trees woven so they grew up the sides of buildings, large flower bushes growing un-manicured and untamed in whatever spots they could find. The city was built to impress, and did so perfectly. It was a huge tourist attraction, a much desired spot for shore leave due to its duality; of nature and urban growth, family and night life, the newer high rises and the traditional spires of ancient palaces, the light of the city during weekends and the light of the stars during weeknights.

Oth felt like a city where you could have it all.

The flat, of course, was beyond luxurious. There were two floors, and the entrance to the flat was on the higher floor. The top floor had the kitchen, which had a cutting edge replicator and old Terran cooking equipment. It had a French press of all things, a griddle, a range and two ovens built into the wall, a dishwasher and trash compactor, a retro styled fridge, a large walk in pantry, a well stocked bar and liquor cabinet, a rather unnecessary kitchen island and a bunch of other cooking tools that Jim could hardly recognize and that Bones was practically jumping up and down to use. Next to the kitchen, there was the dining room that overlooked the city, the powder room, and a ridiculously sized entertainment section.

Jim had noted with relish that the top floor had more than enough space for a very large party.

The second floor, or the first in all technicality, was the residential area. It had four bedrooms and a jack and jill adjoined bathroom between each. There was a little alcove that extended from the rest of the flat that Jim planned on claiming as his reading nook. The entire flat was huge, and maybe overly spacious, but Jim still had a huge bonus left over from the whole saving Earth twice thing, and he didn't mind splurging.

Besides, he wanted an extra bedroom just in case anyone wanted to crash, and Bones' daughter Joanna was supposed to show up during the begining of shore leave since she was on summer break and didn't go to camp this year.

Bones, the big softy, had already gone all out and replicated a bunch of crap to make the room he'd set aside for her more like home. Bones might be a grump, but he was a grump with a big heart.

Even if he did derive an unnecessary amount of joy from stabbing Jim unnecessarily hard with hypos.

During their first week of leave they spent hardly any time together. Jim was out drinking and putting his dick in whatever he could to help him forget about a certain 6 foot gorgeous pointy eared someone. It didn't work.

Bones on the other hand was nesting.

He responded to that observation with a dark look and a threat not best repeated in polite company.

Really though, you didn't hear it from Jim, but Bonesy was definitely nesting. The amount of rearranging furniture and replicating stuffed animals was more than  
enough evidence of that.

After a week or two of drinking and debauchery, Jim got bored.

He checked in with Sulu, who was crashing with his in-laws. Apparently his husband Ben's parents were crazy rich and owned property on all sorts of luxury and pleasure planets. They were located just a few blocks away, just over the river and a quarter mile southwest.

He decided to visit, and brought Demora, or Baby Sulu as he liked to call her, a new starship model of the enterprise.

He then played a game Demora invented called The Enterprise Anthology for a few hours while Mr. and Mr. Sulu went out on a date. The game involved Demora wearing an eyepatch and holding him at gunpoint with a stuffed phaser and interrogating him. The game also involved Demora taking over as Captain the U.S.S. Enterprise while he was held captive and vowing to avenge him. It was a rather long and dramatic tale with an incredibly (overly) complex storyline. It even involved Kirk dying and adopting the role of an evil mastermind bent on destroying the Enterprise, and Demora dueling him on a self-destructing ship with swords.

It ended after 4 hours (not counting snack and potty breaks), with Demora declaring "You should know better than to challenge the crew of the Enterprise. You should have known better to kill James Kirk. This," she said, with vindictive glee, brandishing her sword, "Is for my Captain!"

Then she pretend stabbed Jim through the heart, and he dramatically fell to the ground.

"No! I could never lose!" He cried, dying on the cold hard ground.

"An enemy of the Enterprise can never win." Demora said, from above him.

And then it was time for dinner.

Since Jim could cook hardly more than 5 basic recipes, he ordered Andorian takeout, and they gorged themselves while watching Jim's all time favorite The Princess Bride.  
  
Demora dozed off just as Buttercup and Wesley dueled with an oversized rodent in the Fire Swamp, and Jim put her to bed. Ben and Hikaru arrived just around that time, carrying shopping bags and looking positively refreshed. They went into the living room and popped open a bottle of wine, the windows open as rain began to patter outside.

They talked idly for a few hours, topics shifting from child-rearing to teenage antics and rebellion to music tastes to music theory to romance.

"What about you, Kirk?" Sulu asked, his right arm propped up on his leg, his other leg tucked in, left hand holding his wine glass.

Jim looked at him, eyes bleary and more than a little tipsy. He'd been wandering in his thoughts again, thinking over his own teenage years with detached pity.

"What about me what?" He asked, tipping his head back and taking another sip. Honey, berries, and cherries burst on his  
tongue. Smooth and clear and rich. "Damn, this is good." He muttered to himself, swirling his glass for good measure.

"Your first love?" Ben prompted.

Jim hummed to himself for half a moment, considering.

"My dad's G43X-Force bike. Retrofitted engines so it roared when you started it up. But smooth and silent for the rest of the ride." He said with no small degree of reverence.

They laughed at that, and Jim joined in, though only because they were, not because he was deliberately being funny.

"I meant more along the lines of a person," Sulu said slyly, smiling over his wineglass.

Jim scratched at the back of his neck. "Uhhh, Gaila. Probably."

Sulu shot up, fairly shocked. "You serious?"

Jim shrugged a shoulder and nodded.

"Wait, who's Gaila?" Ben said, trying to catch up.

"Gaila is a gorgeous little thing Jim spent the better part of our academy years having an off-again on-again fling with. He was caught in _flagrante_ _delicto_ more than once in her room. Not to mention all the times he'd been caught in similar positions with her in very inappropriate spots around campus..." Sulu's grin was contagious.

"During our last year she told me she loved me, and I split." Jim finished, smiling wistfully. "I wasn't really mature enough to tell her how I felt, and I definitely wasn't mature enough for the kind of commitment she'd probably want after telling her how I really felt. So I played dumb and split."

"Gaila Black." Sulu said, smiling and shaking his head. "You are really something, Kirk."

Jim shrugged and laughed. "What can I say? I've always loved green." He paused for a moment. "Hey have you heard from Spock yet? He never told me where he was hanging planetside for this leave."

Both the Sulu's eyebrows shot up at that. Jim was too buzzed to notice.

He walked back to the flat after that, wine singing in his blood. The cool air post rain was a nice contrast to the pleasant warmth under his skin. Each inhale was damp and cool, purifying his lungs and slowly clearing his mind so that he was hardly even tipsy by the time he got back. He toed off his shoes, stripped down to his skin, and hopped into his freshly laundered sheets. He stared out the glass wall as the lights in the other buildings slowly flickered out, and the stars emerged from the sky.

Idly, he wondered if Spock was looking at the same sky right then. Thinking of him.

 


	2. Goofy Bangs do Wonders for Jim's Libido

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jim is dragged out of bed and runs into Gaila. Who runs into Uhura. Who ran into Spock, his mother, and his bonded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. I wasn't even supposed to post this soon lmao. 
> 
> Also, in this au Amanda never died. If I wrote this w/Spock's mother having had passed on, this would quickly turn to an angsty mess where Jim & Spock can never be together, and where they both have a crap ton of parent related issues.... 
> 
> Also, I imagine Amanda looking something like Susan Sarandon. It kinda irks me that they hired Winona Ryder to play Spock's mother in the reboot, despite her being only like 3 years older than Zachary Quinto. 
> 
> Um. I think that's all I need to announce. Thanks for all the sweet comments last chapter. I would appreciate some more, they're what keeps me going! I haven't replied yet because I like the notifications in my inbox of people saying nice things about my writing.
> 
>  
> 
> Uhh thanks for reading, commenting and liking. And thanks for bothering to read this rambling mess. Hopefully you guys like this chapter too. I really have no idea what the hell even happened. 
> 
> Anyways, my plans for the next chapter are where things get interesting.

Jim really hated his life right now.

He sat a large breakfast table, with his ex-girlfriend slash first love Gaila, along with Uhura, Bones, Bones' daughter Joanna, his current crush, object of desire, infatuation, whatever the hell you wanted to call it— Spock, accompanied by his annoyingly pretty bondmate T'Pring, and his mother Amanda.

His day wasn't supposed to go like this. He and Gaila were supposed to go to a little cafe, play catch up, go out in the evening and possibly fuck if she was up for it. Instead he was cruelly dragged out of bed at the unholy hour of 9am by Bones and forced to go to brunch with him and his daughter. Jim had then called Gaila to inform her that he was going to be late to their cafe date around noon, and instead she insisted that she join them for breakfast, since she hadn't seen Bones since their academy days. And then they literally ran into Uhura just outside the restaurant, who informed them behind a pair of really fucking intimidating mirrored sunglasses that she was having breakfast with Spock and his mother.

At no point did she mention that his little bondmate was there too.

Because, if she did, Jim would have hightailed it the fuck out of there. Manners be damned.

So there Jim sat, Bones on his right, Gaila on his left, feeling and looking like hungover garbage with a capital G while Spock sat across from him, not a hair out of place.

Jim couldn't help but stare. And really, you couldn't blame him. Spock was walking, talking, sex on legs, his dorky bangs and goofy sweater having virtually no effect on that status. Jim was entirely convinced Spock could shave his head straight down the middle, wear nothing but literal garbage bags and still manage to radiate endless sex appeal.

The Vulcan wore a knit violet sweater with a white letter 'S' emblazoned on the front. The sleeves were folded back methodically, stopping at mid-forearm. His pants were nothing special, nondescript and a deep brown, most likely pressed within an inch of their life. Jim cut his gaze across Spock, giving him a slow once-over, drinking in the sight of him while drinking a glass of water. Examining him from top to bottom and bottom to top again. He slid his eyes upwards, admiring the Vulcan's long throat, most assuredly  _ not _ imagining pressing his mouth to that throat. Spock's mouth was in an impassive straight line, and still, Jim was enraptured by such a mouth. His lips looked soft, perfectly moisturized, and very very kissable.

The Vulcan was clean shaven as always, and his cheekbones were lightly dusted green. Jim's gaze went even further up his face, until he met Spock's own gaze.

Spock raised an eyebrow, as if to say  _ "Are you quite finished?" _

Jim gulped and slammed his glass down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling incredibly self conscious.

He'd grabbed his t-shirt and his jeans off the floor that morning, from a pile of steadily growing clothes that were possibly (most likely) dirty. He probably reeked too. Of the beer he steadily sweated out, of onion-like body odor, and of the stench that was probably lodged in his questionable clothes. Usually he was more put together than this, but Bones had literally dragged him out of bed that morning. 

So cut him a break. 

He felt himself flush, and he fiddled with his fork, glancing up from under his lashes to see if Spock was still looking. The vulcan was. Jim felt his stomach flip, and tried to shake off the feeling.

Spock was most likely wondering over the eccentricities of Jim, or maybe of humans in general. It didn't mean anything. Jim mentally kicked himself, of course it didn't mean anything. He was literally sitting next to his mother and bondmate right then. Which made Jim feel even more like garbage.

Spock's betrothed was annoyingly pretty. Gorgeous, rather. She had jet black hair pulled back into an elaborate updo, complementing her heart shaped face and arched cheekbones perfectly. Her mouth was plump and perfect, and she looked flawlessly beautiful. She wore a silver-white Chinese silk blouse with powder pink flowers embroidered on it, the pagoda shaped sleeves cut off at the elbow. Her ensemble only served to make her look even more delicate, dainty, and beautiful.

Sulkily, Jim wondered to himself if Spock liked that.

The rest of the table was impeccably dressed, if not polished and stress-inducingly attractive. 

Uhura wore a long sleeved black button up and high-waisted jeans that did wonders for her already uber cute butt and long legs. Her nails were painted teal, and her hair was down, pulled back behind her ears. Her mirrored sunglasses were folded into the pocket of her black button down, and she wasn't wearing an inch of makeup. She was just as badass as she usually was, but softer.

Even Bones looked great. He wore a grey t-shirt and a really nice leather jacket. He managed somehow to make his semi-casual ensemble into something distinguished. He had a thin golden chain dangling from his neck, with a small locket attached.

Jim knew from picking around Bones' things that the locket contained a fairly recent picture of Joanna, and an audio recording of her voice as a toddler.

Joanna had her hair pulled back into six separate buns, three on each side of her head. Bones' daughter was a lovely mixture of the best of her parents. She had her father's hazel eyes, and her mother's golden brown sun kissed complexion, as well as the thickness and color of her mother's hair as well. She wore a t-shirt with some pre-teen Orion heartthrob on it, along with some nicely applied blue eyeshadow.

Gaila was dressed as wonderfully as she usually was. Her wildfire red curls extended in every direction, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She wore a sleeveless white sundress with a deeply plunging sweetheart neckline. Jim was mildly ashamed to say he ogled a bit when she'd went in for a hug that morning. She wore several silver bangle bracelets that jingled and jangled whenever she moved, and as she was a very animated person— she was making quite a lot of noise with her arm movements alone.

Spock's mother Amanda was dressed simply. She had a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she perused the menu. Her hair was a deep mousy brown, with streaks of grey and white working their way through. She wore a pale blue cardigan paired with tan pants and dark brown loafers. Her brown eyes were the exact same shade as her son's.

Jim realized with a start that he'd been staring, and had completely zoned out. Internally cringing, he checked back into the conversation.

"—if you think that's going to work on me, you're mistaken. Even this one's puppy dog eyes' don't work anymore." Bones said pointing at Jim.

Joanna giggled at that, and Bones gave her a small indulgent smile.

"Hey!" Jim protested, flushing again. "When have I ever used puppy dogs eyes on you?"

Bones began counting off his fingers exaggeratedly and Jim scowled, sticking his tongue out at Bones. Everyone laughed at that, excepting the Vulcan couple.

"I can't believe you would accuse me of that. I would  _ never _ ." Jim mock gasped, clutching his hands to his chest as though he was deeply offended. 

"Oh really?Why don't we ask the hobgoblin what he thinks?" Bones said, crossing his arms and leaning back smugly.

Jim blanched and turned slowly, meeting Spock's dark eyes. His expression unreadable. Something curled in Jim's gut, and once again his heart was in his throat. The Vulcan's dark brown eyes skimmed over Jim briefly, flittering back to Bones.

"Commander, how often has Jimmy used his puppy dog eyes to try to convince you of something this year?" Gaila probed.

Spock blinked. "If by puppy dog eyes, you mean an expression meant to garner pity and convince another party to acquiesce, the Captain has made such an expression towards me on 54 separate occasions this year."

It was only June.

"Jeez, Spock. I thought you were supposed to be on my side." Jim teased.

Spock blinked again. "I was not aware there were sides to take, Captain. Had I been, I assure you I would have immediately allied myself with you."

"Thanks Spock." Jim beamed. "I knew I could always count on you."

Spock's eyes warmed, which in turn warmed Jim's insides. 

"Unlike some people." He added, sticking out his tongue at Bones and Gaila.

He turned back to Spock, who was looking at him oddly. Jim nudged Spock's foot with his own and winked. Spock only raised an eyebrow. He nudged Spock's foot again, and the Vulcan regarded him silently, lips curving slightly at the edges. Which for Spock, was equivalent to a mega-watt grin. Jim smiled widely at him, casting his gaze sideways to Amanda.

"So, Amanda. How'd you and Sarek meet?" Jim asked, taking another sip of water, nudging Spock with his foot again.

Amanda closed the menu and folded her hands in her lap. "It was love at first sight. For us both," she began, smiling sweetly. "I had just finished my dissertation and started work on the universal translator with several of my colleagues and former professors. Sarek was the ambassador from Vulcan. It was only logical that he took an interest in our proceedings. Such an invention would change everything, the world, the known universe as we knew it . During this time, I sought him out. I was curious about him, his culture, his way of thinking, I wanted to know everything I could about him. We spent a lot of time together, outside of my work on the universal translator." She paused there, giving her order to the waitress along with everyone else.

"I couldn't tell you how many hours I spent thinking about him, wondering about him. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask him one of these questions that had been bouncing around my mind for weeks, if not months."

"What question was that?" Uhura asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Amanda gave her a gentle smile. "I asked him what he liked most about Earth. He of course said that it was illogical to favor one aspect of a planet above others. Then he amended his answer by saying he did derive the most pleasure on Earth in the weeks he had spent with me. And the rest,they say, is history."

"Got married, went to Vulcan, bonded the Vulcan way, and out came Spock." Jim said.

Amanda laughed. "Well, it wasn't quite as brief or as simple as that sentence implies. But in essence, yes."

The food arrived shortly thereafter and the conversation branched off. Gaila talked off Amanda's head, and Joanna stuck to Uhura and Bones, which left a semi-awkward cluster of Jim, Spock, and T'Pring.

The latter of which stared at him bluntly.

Jim felt a flush crawling up the side of his neck.

"So, T'Pring, how have you been?"Jim asked awkwardly.

The last time he'd encountered her, she'd been less than impressed with him. If he had once thought Spock emotionless, Spock had nothing on ice queen T’Pring. T'Pring's voice and face never betrayed what she thought. She was a mask, a mysterious shelled creature you could probe at all you wanted, though nothing would come of it. Her veneer would not crack,her mask would never fall, but the question posed; was there anything behind it all?

T'Pring looked to Spock, and back to Jim. "I am as I always have been." She said, voice as lithe and lovely as she.

Jim smiled. Vulcans were something else, all right. Despite T'Prings disinterested attitude, he liked her. Even though he was incredibly jealous over the fact that she was bonded to Spock in a way he could never be.

"My Captain meant to inquire over your state of well-being." Spock said.

"I understood him. My answer is unchanged. My state of being has neither deteriorated nor improved since I saw you last."

"That's good to hear." Jim said.

"Quite." Spock said.

Jim nudged Spock's foot with his own again, mindlessly.

"To what purpose does it serve to touch Spock repeatedly with your foot?" T'Pring asked suddenly.

Jim felt himself go beet red, his jaw dropping open.

"You stare at him in a very overt manner as well. What purpose does that serve?" She continued, unfazed by Jim's stunned silence.

"Within the past hour, you have spent 23.87 minutes gazing at Spock, though you have spent only 12.29 minutes speaking to him directly. By comparison, you have spent 7.15 minutes looking at Leonard, when you spoke to him directly for 14.3 minutes." T'Pring observed.

"From what I know of you, Captain Kirk, and of humans as a species, these observations lead me to infer that you—"

"T'Pring." Spock interrupted, voice sharp in a way that had Jim's pants tightening, as humiliating as that was. 

"Jim probed me with his foot as he is an individual who craves contact through touch. Jim, was not embraced enough as a child. As a result, he regularly seeks out akin to skin contact, or whatever contact he may garner with individuals that he trusts. As I am one of his closest friends, he often touches me. It is beneficial to the human brain to engage in touch, or skin to skin contact with other humans or beings. Humans rely heavily on social interaction. The sensation of touch is a direct manifestation of this need for interaction. It is only logical that Jim touch me when it pleases him, and it is only logical that I indulge him in his needs, as I am his first officer and his friend."

T'Pring gave Spock an unimpressed look and finished the remains of her roasted zucchini and salad.

Jim tried not to stare at Spock too much after that. He failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter really went off on its own direction.
> 
> Sorry about the length, but chapter 3 should be ultra long, due to all the drama, romance and mild theatrics I have planned. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I would really appreciate questions, comments, and kudos, they're what keeps me going! Thank you so much for you support. I'm kinda bad about replying, but I'll get around to responding to all your lovely comments soon, most likely midweek.
> 
> Once again, thanks so much. :•) hugs and kisses for you all!!


	3. Green is Definitely the Sexiest Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sexual tension is very viscous this time around. Dance and party time. Low key domesticity. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a problem.
> 
> I wasn't supposed to post until Sunday. But I finished this chapter in a day. Despite working a five hour shift and walking home in 98 degree weather.
> 
> Expect 5-7 chapters till this is completed. It's 12:37 am.  
> I have work at 10:30 tomorrow morning. I am horribly irresponsible. 
> 
> At the age of 12 I stayed up late on summer nights reading. At the age of 18 I stay up late on summer nights writing. Oh how the times have changed....
> 
> Thanks for reading. This  
> Chapter and the last need  
> Some serious editing. But I had to post immediately. Even if it's almost one am and I'm tired as shit.
> 
> Thanks for reading.  
> Questions, comments and kudos, as always, are appreciated.  
> :•) Enjoy!
> 
> UPDATE: revised and edited this chapter and the previous one. Hopefully I caught all my mistakes and grammatical errors.

Sometimes Jim wondered if he was a complete dick in his past life. Or if whatever omnipotent being that laid the map of the universe just liked fucking with him. Or if he had just really shit luck where some things were concerned.

Through some cruel twist of fate, Spock was crashing at Jim and Bone's flat. T'Pring had apparently already found a place to stay, and Spock's mother had only been passing through the star system when she decided to take a pause and visit her beloved son. Which really had Jim begging the question: where the hell was Spock staying to begin with? And also; why the fuck wasn't he staying with T'Pring?

Not that he minded, or could bring himself to complain aloud, of course. He was happy to have Spock around, as eye candy and a conversationalist, if nothing else. If anything, it felt like they were back on the enterprise. Spock was literally next door to him again, and they were sharing another bathroom.

Though, because they were on shore leave, the scheduling of things changed.

Which was a big problem with a capital P for Jim. The neat scheduling of their daily routines on the Enterprise was completely gone. There were no discussions to be had about bathroom usage or community space. Jim generally had an idea of what Spock was doing and when, but all of that was thrown out of the window during shore leave. 

That meant mornings where Spock stood by his side, brushing his teeth in his black silk pajamas, eyes hazy with sleep. It meant evenings where Spock moved around the kitchen as though he were born to, chopping vegetables and boiling things with all the speed, grace, and beauty he carried in every deed he performed. It meant mornings where Jim's breath hitched because Spock placed a hand on his hip, came up from behind him and reached for a mug in the cupboard. It meant days where Spock lounged idly on the couch, feet gloriously bare as he read from his padd, headphones in.

Goodness, he was beautiful.

Jim even blurted it out one morning, watching Spock as he brewed himself a cup of tea. The light from the morning sun made his skin positively glow. There was a healthy green flush to his fingers and cheeks, and his dark brown eyes were bright, crinkling at the edges in his own subtle Spock smile. Something had Jim's favorite Vulcan in a very good mood.

Jim had his hand pressed into his cheek, kicking his feet as he sat at the kitchen island, watching Spock perform his daily morning routine. Spock glanced at him for half a moment, eyes catching Jim's, still crinkled at the edges.

"Holy shit you're _ beautiful _ ." Jim breathed.

Spock raised an eyebrow, amused. "While Vulcans have no innate need for flattery, I am flattered to hear that you find me pleasing to your senses."

Jim felt his blood rushing through his body, warming him. "Well?" He said, "You're not going to return the favor?"

"Return the favor, Captain?"

"You're not going to give me a compliment?" Jim said, sticking out his bottom lip. "And it's Jim. Call me Jim when we're not on duty."

Spock's look was deadpan. "I see no beneficial purpose of fueling your vanity by providing you information of which you already aware."

"You're no fun Spock."

Spock exhaled deliberately. From anyone else it would have inconsequential, but from Spock, one could very well damn near say it was an exasperated sigh.

"You too, are appealing to the senses, Jim. Though not so much on the olfactory senses."

Jim laughed. "Guess that's your way of telling me I need a shower, huh?"

"On the contrary, Jim, it is your cologne that I find offensive. I have a higher sense of smell than you. I find your cologne, and the quantity you put on very overwhelming."

"Rude." Jim said.

"Honest." Spock corrected. "My statement was neither impolite nor offensive."

"Ooer. Look at the big brains on Spock."

"I fail to understand your meaning, Captain. If my brain were engorged it would mean very well mean I have suffered from a severe head injury, or that I am undergoing a stroke. Do you think I am suffering from a hemorrhagic stroke, Jim?"

"You know that's not what 'big brains' means. Smart ass."

"Perhaps it is you who is suffering from a hemorrhagic stroke. There is no other explanation for you believing my brain is located in my posterior."

Jim laughed again, delighted by Spock's quip. The Vulcan could be downright hilarious sometimes. His sense of humor, like him, was subdued, but if one paid enough attention to Spock’s speech, they could catch it. 

"You're something else Spock." Jim said finally, wiping away a tear from his eye.

Bones stumbled into the kitchen, eyes bloodshot and glaring at Jim. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Jim beamed at Bones. "Good morning Bonesy. How'd you sleep?"

Bones grunted, and set about making himself a cup of coffee. "Was sleeping just fine 'til your flirting woke me up."

"Wasn't flirting." Jim protested, pointedly  _ not  _ reddening in the face.

Bones gave him a look. "Sure you weren't."

"Besides, you wouldn't be so tired if you weren't up at all hours of the night."

Bones grunted again.

"I hope last night was worth it." Jim said in a sing-song voice. 

Bones just scowled at his cup of coffee, a flush creeping up the side of his neck. 

Interesting. A telltale sign that he'd gotten laid the night before. Or very near to it.

Spock, too, was uncharacteristically silent, sipping his tea at the corner of the kitchen island.

"You really might want to catch up in your sleep soon though. Cause we're partying it up tonight."

Bones looked at his accusingly. "What about Jo?"

Jim waved a hand, unconcerned. "She's going over at Sulu's. Her and Demora wanted to have a sleep over."

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Bones groused. "How the hell do you of all people know this before I do?"

"Doctor, Joanna had attempted to inform you of her desire to have a slumber party at Demora Sulu's just yesterday evening. Though, as you were currently having a migraine, before she finished her query, you interrupted and said that whatever she wanted she could have."

"Well, that settles it then. We're all going out tonight." Jim said brightly.

"I never said I wanted to go." Bones muttered.

"Don't be a spoilsport Bones. Even Spock's coming. Right Spocko?"

"If it pleases you, Captain. Though I might rescind my offer should you call me that again."

"See? Spock's coming too."

Bones gave him a wary look. "Then I should definitely stay here."

 

* * *

 

 

There were few Jim Kirk was notorious for that didn't make him cringe. Of them chiefly, was the rumor that a party really got started the second he showed up (in reality, he always tended to run late, and by the time he arrived, things were just kicking into high gear) as well as the reputation that Jim Kirk parties were always worth going to.

That being said, despite it being a party he was more than excited to go to, Jim didn't show up until 12 or so, when things were just getting amped up. He drove in on a rented bike, feeling like quite the thing as he parked and hopped off, pulling off his helmet with boundless dramatics.

"Is that Captain Kirk?" He heard a leggy Orion girl ask on the sidewalk, flipping her long black hair.

_ "It is." _ Jim thought smugly to himself.

Jim was feeling pretty great about himself. He was freshly showered,shaved and prepped for a night of fun. His hair was coiffed, and his dark jeans did wonders for his already incredibly wonderful ass. He wore a leather jacket over a white collared shirt open at the collar, the first three buttons undone. He looked fucking hot, and he felt like he was walking on air.

He went inside the club, which was packed, of course. He walked over to the VIP section, which he'd reserved for the night.

The majority of the gang was there, packed into a booth. Jim couldn't help his grin. He tossed his leather jacket onto an empty chair and slid into the booth. Scotty and Bones were talking animatedly, laughing in between words. Chekov was sitting in Uhura's lap, taking a sip from a drink periodically and handing it back to her so she could sip as well. Sulu held a portable padd in his hands, screen lighting up his face as he showed Gaila something that had her giggling incessantly.

Uhura turned to Jim as he sat, lighting up immediately, arms still around Chekov's waist.

"Jim! You look great." She said, eyes bright as she took in his outfit.

Chekov turned to look at Jim's outfit, still sipping on his drink. "Hello Keptin! The leather jacket is a wery nice touch."

Gaila looked at Jim from over Sulu's shoulder. "Jimmy! You look positively  _ scrumptious _ . If you're not careful, I'll gobble you up before the night is over."

"Thanks everyone." Jim said, leaning back into the booth and spreading both arms around the back end. "Where's Spock?" He asked loudly, over the music.

Uhura turned to talk directly in his ear, "Spock's at the bar fetching us some drinks. Rand, Christine, and T'Pring all went to the bathroom together."

Jim's mood soured a little at hearing T'Pring was present, but he did his best to shake it off. He did say to bring whomever you wanted. It just bothered him a little that Spock wanted T'Pring there. For whatever reason. It wasn’t jealousy. Jealousy suggested that Spock was his to be jealous of, which he wasn’t. 

"Here he comes now." Uhura said into his ear, pointing to a hazy section of the club from which Spock emerged.

Jim turned his head, and the moment he saw Spock, two dual reactions went off in his body simultaneously. Firstly his stomach curled in on itself, fluttering in a sensation not unlike butterflies. This reaction was likely due to his affection for Spock, his crush, that gave him excitement and nervousness. Secondly, he felt something hot pool into his belly and settle further south, his mouth drying in pure lust at the sight before him. If Jim looked hot, Spock looked like a downright demigod.

Spock was dressed head to toe in skin-tight (or nearly enough) all black clothes. He wore a jet turtleneck that clung to his chest in exactly the kind of way Jim would love to. The turtleneck even managed to make his shoulders look broader, and his waist and hips slimmer. As the Vulcan stepped closer, Jim could actually make out the cut angle of his biceps, and very faintly— his pecs. His pants were fucking black leather, and practically glued to his beatific ass. Spock looked long and lean and sexy and dangerous. If the Vulcan wanted to have him right there, right then, on a table in front of all their friends and colleagues, Jim wouldn't say no.

Spock diligently passed everyone their drinks, and gracefully sat in the booth next to Jim, a few inches apart. Jim was more than aware of the space between them. The skin closest to Spock seemed to hum. His entire left side buzzed with electricity.

"Spock, you look—" Jim licked his lips and gave Spock another once over, "really great."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock said. "I regret I was not aware you would be here so soon, otherwise I would have retrieved a beverage for you as well."

Jim nudged Spock with his shoulder. The entire left side of his body sang in joy.

"It's okay Spock," he said, grinning. "We can just share whatever you got."

"I told him to order himself a sweet wine with chocolate notes. Spock's got a major sweet tooth, and he's rather fond of chocolate."

"Really?" Jim said, surprised. "I didn't know you liked chocolate, Spock."

"It is a rare treat I do not partake in often." Spock said, pushing his glass towards Jim. "You may have it."

Jim frowned. "No! We can just share." He lifted it up to his lips and let it hover. "Unless you're afraid of catching my illogical human germs." He winked.

Spock's eyes darkened, flicking from Jim's gaze to his mouth and back again. 

"I am afraid of no such thing."

"Good." Jim said, taking a long sip.

Spock boldly watched him do so. Heat crackled in the air between them. Jim handed Spock the glass back, and Spock's hand grazed his own. Heat curled in Jim's belly. He licked his lips, and Spock's eyes flitted downwards to watch him do so. Their eyes met again, and Jim watched Spock take a drink himself, long pale throat moving as he tipped his head back to drink. Lust dried Jim's mouth, and he pulled the glass back from Spock, taking another drink.

_ "Jim," _ Spock said softly, so softly Jim couldn't be sure he heard correctly. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Spock was attempting to seduce him. Jim licked his lips and leaned forward, only to he interrupted by a very loud Vulcan announcing herself.

"Spock, please move closer to Jim so that I and my companions are able to sit comfortably." T'Pring said, looking gorgeous, as per fucking usual.

She was elevated at a greater height than her usual 5 feet 3 inches, thanks to her teetering silver heels. Jim wondered if she wore anything besides silver and white. Her hair was pulled back into a pony, like Gaila's, with bangs framing her face. She wore a little white cocktail dress with what was probably real diamonds dangling from the hem at mid thigh. Jim very reluctantly and very bitterly admitted to himself that Spock and T'Pring matched each other perfectly.

Spock obligingly scooched closer to Jim, who moved a bit closer to Uhura, but it was no use. He now sat thigh-to-thigh with Spock, lust curling in his belly.

"You look nice," Rand said, "love what you've done with your hair."

Jim gave Rand a genuine grin. "Thanks, I love what you've done with yours." He said, motioning to Rand's now blue hair.

She shrugged a shoulder and smiled. "It's only temporary. It'll fade to silver by Monday and be back to its usual color by next Thursday."

"I especially like how your top and eyeshadow match," Jim added.

"Yeah? It's my favorite color. I don't get to wear it often." Rand said.

"You should've joined medical then." Christine said teasingly, sipping what looked like a whisky.

"What's your favorite color, Jim?" Rand asked, turning to look back at him.

"Green." He said unthinkingly.

It felt as though Spock's thigh pressed closer to his own.

"Mine's always been blue too." Christine volunteered, "but more of a gentle baby blue. Not that luminescent ultramarine."

"I've always liked black myself." Uhura said, motioning to her own outfit, in a killer black jumpsuit with little white stars dotting it.

"That's a surprise to no one." Jim said, deadpan. "Nyota Uhura's favorite color is the most intimidating."

Jim was really trying to focus on the conversation, but the tight press of Spock's body against his own was highly distracting, to say the least. Rand tried engaging him again, but Jim took too long to answer, sidetracked. Spock exhaled, and Jim could feel it brush against his neck. He shuddered, involuntarily. He was worried that if he sat here any longer, he might either come in his pants or develop a very obvious and very unfortunate boner.

"Who wants to dance?" Jim said suddenly, interrupting several conversations at once.

"Me!" Gaila said, flinging her arm, nearly clipping Scotty in the face.

The Scotsman dodged and gave her a look as though she was the strangest person he'd ever met. Which might've actually been the case.

Bones and Scotty slid out of the way, but they weren't fast enough. Gaila crawled across their laps, nearly losing a shoe in her eagerness. Sulu slid out after her, and Uhura and Chekov followed, Jim falling straight after.

Gaila took Jim by the hand, literally jumping up and down. "Jimmy! I love this song!"

Jim grinned. "I know."

She pulled him to the dance floor, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, and Rand following.

Scotty tossed back his drink. "Ah, what tae hell," he said, standing up and heading after them.

At the booth, only Bones, Spock, Christine and T'Pring remained. Bones switched seats with Spock so he sat next to T'Pring. He, T'Pring and Christine were deep in conversation, talking and gesticulating widely. T’Pring contributed to the conversation, but did no gesticulating, obviously. 

Gaila and Jim paired off together, already moving in sync. Jim let the music flow through him, the bass pumping along to his heartbeat, sweat pouring down his back. Gaila matched his every move with a twist of her hips, their styles pairing perfectly. Dancing was like sex, for both of them. Which was probably why they danced so well together. Gaila ripped out her hair band, letting her curls fall loose. They laughed together, and Jim curled his hands over her hips as she raised her hands above her head.

"I love Terran dance music from the 1980's!" Gaila yelled over the music.

Jim just raised his eyebrows.

"I did major in Terran music periods before I joined Starfleet." Gaila chided, slipping around so she could whisper in his ear. He spun her away from him.

"Daddy wanted the best for me, you know!" She shouted as Jim spun her back towards him.

The song changed then, from loud happy dance beats to something slower, sexier.

Gaila immediately plastered herself to Jim's front, grinding against him. Jim ran his hands up her sides, tilting her head back and pressing his face into her throat. They moved their hips in tandem, in a slow circular motion.

Spock's close proximity and overwhelming sex appeal already had Jim aroused, and Gaila's body pressed against his wasn't exactly helping that.

That's when Jim felt it, a hot and possessive stare grazing over his body like a physical caress. He looked up over Gaila's shoulder, gazing around the room to find the source of the stare. Gaila whipped around, dropping low and slowly drawing herself back up.

"Don't look now, but somebody seems to be positively green with jealously." She murmured, whipping her hair and taking control of the dance. She grabbed onto Jim's hips and turned them around. "Just over there." She said pointing behind herself.

Jim's eyes followed the movement over to the bar. His mouth went dry.

Spock stood over at the bar, drinking from a glass slowly, leaning against the edge, watching as Jim and Gaila danced. Their eyes met, and lust pooled into Jim's veins. The Vulcan was flushed green, and he looked none too pleased.

"Go get him, Jimmy." Gaila whispered in his ear, pinching his butt and laughing. "I'll back off." 

Gaila whooped and stepped away from Jim, dancing on her own. Immediately, several strangers gravitated towards her. She was downright magnetic, and if Jim weren't magnetized to someone else, he probably would have been caught in her orbit for the night as well.

Jim stepped off from the dance floor and towards Spock. Spock watched him evenly, gaze unwavering. They stood less than a foot apart, and Jim inserted himself in Spock's personal space, taking the glass from Spock and downing the rest.

"Dance with me." He said.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Spock. For me."

Spock pulled himself away from the bar. "Anything for you, Captain."

"No. Not your captain. Just Jim." Jim said, unmoving.

Spock tilted his head, considering. "Of course, Jim."

Jim pulled him away from the bar, guiding him by the hand, backing onto the dance floor. Once they arrived, Spock looked awkward, completely stiff in a way that was odd for him. Jim squeezed his hand.

"Relax, Spock. I've got you." He said. "It's just like sex. You've done that before, right?" He teased.

Spock's gaze was flinty. "Of course I have."

"It's just like that. Move with me, do what feels good." Jim purred.

It took a small bit of coaxing but sure enough they were moving in tandem. Jim couldn't help his grin. He knew they'd be great together. Spock's hands melded over his hips possessively, and Jim pressed his entire back to Spock's front. They grinded together for a bit, until Jim got a bit too excited. They pulled apart but stayed in sync. Jim was hardly aware of his body. All he saw was Spock. Spock's liquid movements. Spock's eyes on him. Spock's hands and the way they felt. The songs melded into one another, and Jim was hardly aware of the lyrics being sung, or the melodies at this point. 

Jim pressed himself against Spock, looking from his mouth to eyes to his mouth again.

“Spock, if I asked you to kiss me, would you?" He asked, hope in his eyes, hearti n his throat.

Spock answered by pressing his mouth against Jim's collarbone, licking a line from the base of his throat to his jaw. Jim groaned raggedly .

He didn't care if he could only have Spock tonight. He didn't care rhaf Spock's bondmate sat at a table within that same bar. He only knew that he needed Spock. Immediately.

"You want to get out of here? With me?"

Jim asked. Spock's hands on his hips tightened.

The Vulcan nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> :•) 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter. I should have that ready and revised by Sunday the 25th. If you've any questions, comments, concerns, feel free to express them. Drop me a kudos too, positive reinforcement and feedback keeps me going!


	4. In Which Jim Kirk's Heart Migrates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking, making love, off-screen conversations and a very brief spot of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how I always end up posting before I plan on posting. I hope a did a decent job with the smut. I'm much much better at writing aimless day to day scenes and fluff. More of a slice of life writer than a bend your sex partner over the desk writer.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy. I'll spruce this up by Sunday. Finished the chapter early and just felt like posting. Even if it's late and I have an eight hour shift tomorrow.
> 
> Shhhh, I'm irresponsible I know. But hey, at least you're getting fanfic due to my being irresponsible. Anyways, thanks for reading, dropping a kudos and commenting.
> 
> Positive reinforcement fuels my writing! 
> 
> I already have my next 2  
> Star Trek fics planned out. You'll probably see those in a month or so. Maybe. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this installment, despite it being rough and mostly unedited. 
> 
> As always, kudos, comments, questions, and long gushing paragraphs about how awesome I am are deeply appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jim led Spock out of the club, head bowed. He caught Uhura's eye as he did, giving her a wan smile in response to her encouraging one. Jim pulled Spock along, heart pounding in his chest.

_Was this really happening?_

The cool night air was cloying on his lungs and nerves. The valet pulled up with Jim's rented bike in tow, Spock eyed it with skepticism, remaining on the sidewalk curb as Jim straddled it.

"What?" He asked, frowning, clutching his helmet in his hands. His stomach churned in anxiety. "Second thoughts?"

"No, Jim. It is only that I do not trust your driving abilities. In your current state." The ' _Or at all_ ,' went unsaid.

"Shit, you're right. Did you want to drive then?" Jim said.

"I will." Spock said, sliding onto the bike and slipping on Jim's helmet gracefully. Jim hopped on behind Spock, winding his arms around the vulcan's middle, resting his chin on the vulcan's shoulder, turning his face into the wind. Spock was a steady driver, the turns were smooth and short, and when he braked, he slowed down first so they came to gentle stops. The ride was pleasant, however short lived. Spock was warm against his front, and the cool night breeze ruffled Jim's hair and caressed his face. He squeezed Spock tighter, and despite all the lust pouring through his veins, he never wanted this moment to end.

Spock came to a complete stop, and Jim looked up at their flat. They parked in the garage and took the lift up, standing side by side, letting the knuckles of their fingers brush. Each gentle touch of their fingers or meeting of their eyes sent flames of heat and lust licking up Jim's spine. The second they entered the flat, Jim locked the door and turned around, exhaling deeply and giving Spock a small smile. The Vulcan was immediately on him, pressing him against the wall.

Spock's lips were molten hot, firm against Jim's own, flowing smoothly like liquid. Jim gasped, and Spock's tongue eagerly caressed its way into Jim's mouth slowly. Spock kissed him slowly, eagerly, and thoroughly, with the same brutal efficiency he put into any and everything he did. Jim felt dizzy from the force of Spock's kiss, knees practically weakening. The lack of air was beginning to crush Jim's lungs, and Spock relented just in time, mouth trailing over to his throat.

"You've been holding out on me, Spock." He said chidingly.

He nipped at Jim's neck in lieu of a reply. Jim moaned, hips stuttering against Spock's.

"Do you enjoy that Jim?" Spock murmured into his ear.

"Yes," Jim said breathlessly.

"Would you like for me to do it again?" Spock asked, voice low and rumbling, sending waves of lust down Jim's spine and into his balls.

"Yes, Spock, please."

Spock bit at Jim's throat and Jim sighed, rolling his hips to alleviate his overwhelming arousal.

He bit again, hard.

Jim yowled and ground his hips against Spock's.

The vulcan's hands slid up Jim's shirt, possessively crawling against his skin, pinching and pulling and caressing. A hand traversed further north, caressing Jim's left nipple, teasing it into a rosy budding peak. Spock tilted Jim's head further back, gaining fuller access to his throat and collarbone. Spock kissed the juncture between neck and shoulder, pressing short, perfunctory, hard kisses against that spot.

Jim rolled his hips against Spock's moaning and panting heavily. Spock's hips rolled in response. Jim wound his arms around Spock's neck and captured his mouth. Spock was naturally dominant, and while Jim was usually more than happy to take the lead or back off with his partners depending on their preferences, he wanted to fight Spock for control. He wanted to see, to feel Spock take the reins, to own him totally and completely.

Then Spock did something with his tongue that nearly had Jim creaming in his pants. He pulled back for air, spittle trailing from Jim's mouth to Spock's.  
Jim was slightly disappointed to say Spock did not look quite so disarrayed as he expected .

His hair was a bit ruffled from Jim's mindless ministrations, but that was about it. A green flush had risen to his cheeks, and his breathing hadn't changed at all.

Jim pouted.

"That's not fair."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fair, Captain?"

"Jim." Jim corrected. "You hardly seem as turned on as I do."

Spock's eyes darkened, locking in on Jim's mouth.

"Would you like to see me further affected?" Spock asked, eyes on Jim's mouth as he placed his thumb over Jim's lower lip.

Jim opened his mouth and began to suck on Spock's thumb. The pressure of it against his tongue was incredible, and he felt himself begin to harden in his jeans. He ran his tongue under Spock's nail, and nibbled on the underside of his thumb. He moaned softly around Spock's thumb, sucking with new vigor. After a few moments of this, Spock pulled his hand away, breathing heavier than before.

"Jim, should you like to continue this, there are some things I require of you."

"Anything, Spock. Anything."

"Go to your room immediately. Remove all of your clothes, close your eyes, and sit upon your knees."

Jim gave Spock a mega-watt grin and hightailed it to his room. He stripped eagerly, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging out of his jeans and pants^1. He sat on his knees, cock bobbing in the open air, quivering slightly. He closed his eyes, shaking with excitement and anticipation.

He heard the door latch open, and the padding of soft steps on the hardwood floor. There was a slight shift of air in front of him, he shivered. A hand ran through his hair, curving downwards over his ear and cupping his jaw.

"Very satisfactory." Spock murmured, dragging his index and middle fingers over Jim's mouth. Jim opened his mouth to kiss those wandering digits, and Spock briefly pressed his fingers against Jim's tongue. "Jim, would you be amenable to performing fellatio?"

Jim grinned. "Spock, I thought you'd never ask."

A hand on the back of his head guided his mouth to Spock's cock. He pushed hips lips over his teeth and began to bob his head, pointedly slurping loudly.

How obscene he must look to Spock, fully naked and on his knees, sucking cock as if he were born to. But only for Spock. He couldn't imagine doing this for anyone else. He hummed around the vulcan's wonderfully sized member, enjoying the weight and girth and heft of it on his own tongue. He listened to Spock as he licked and slurped at the vulcan. His breathing had grown labored, and a heavy hand rested on the back of his head, gripping tightly. Spock gasped and moaned softly, panting and making small "ah" noises in quick succession to one another. It was a lovely symphony, Spock's pleasure. Jim felt blessed to be granted with an up close and demonstrative performance of if.

Spock's pleasure, that is.

Spock's hand was under his chin again.  
"Open your eyes, Jim."

Jim did, immediately meeting Spock's gaze. The vulcan inhaled sharply, eyes wide—for him anyway. Jim pulled off of Spock's cock with a wonderful popping sound. He gripped it with his left hand, examining it throughly. Double ridged, chubby, but with a nice length too, silky soft to the touch, tinged a deep olive color. Jim pressed a kiss to the head, Spock shuddered.

"You've been holding out on me, Mr.Spock." He said, grinning.

Spock's look was both lusty and wary. "So you've said."

He leaned back to appraise the vulcan, and his dick pulsed in response at the sight. Spock was still fully dressed, the only exposed skin being his prick, his hands, upper neck and face. And he was all the more erotic for it. Jim felt wanton, naked in Spock's presence like this, cock an angry red flag between his legs.

"What do you say I stop talking and put my mouth to good use, yeah?"

Spock's hands tightened on his shoulders. "Please."

Jim went for it. Perhaps a bit overeagerly. He used every trick he had, long periods of eye contact, twisting his hand gently in a clockwise motion, pressing kisses to the glans, licking a vein on the underside, slobbering and slurping, relaxing his gag reflex and swallowing at the back of his throat. Spock's breathing had gone completely ragged, and he looked at Jim,  
eyes alight.

Jim pulled off, gave him a smile and a wink, putting a hand on Spock's hip, relaxing his gag reflex and letting the vulcan completely fuck his face.

Spock was gasping. "Jim. Oh—oh! Jim, your mouth. Mmmm. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ahhhh. Please. I'm—"

Spock came in a thick burst into Jim's mouth, groaning deeply. Jim let some of it dribble down his cheeks, then going on to pointedly lick it all up. Not quite the same flavor as human spunk. Similar, but also different. Jim loved the taste.

Jim stood up, knees aching and probably bruising already, and pulled Spock to the bed by his hips.  
He pulled the vulcan's turtleneck up and over his head, and laid on the bed, watching as Spock removed his socks, shoes, and leather trousers methodically.

Jim's eyes bugged. "You don't wear underwear?"

Spock shook his head, laying on his side to face Jim. "No. I found them too confining."

Jim laughed at that. "Considering the beast that's in your pants, I don't blame you any."

Spock then gave a pointed look at Jim's engorged erection and reached out. The vulcan's hand was soft, and he quaked in Spock's grip. He moved so his forehead was pressed to Spock's, eyes downcast, watching Spock's hand move up and down over his erection. He came just as Spock kissed him, a close mouthed gentle thing that tugged at his heart.

Spock retrieved a wash cloth to wipe at the cum on their stomach's, and Jim fell asleep in the vulcan's arms, legs tangled and heads bowed in towards each other's.

  
•.•.•..•.•..•.

Sex with Spock was everything and more than Jim could have imagined. He felt like he was walking on air.

Bones was mysteriously absent for the next few days, Joanna went home early, just the day after the party, claiming homesickness, and Bones didn't bother coming back to the flat after that. For whatever reason.

Which meant Jim and Spock had the entire apartment to themselves. And what felt like the entire city. Jim woke up early to take a run early one morning, only to return to find Spock prepped, ready and waiting for him. They fucked on the floor that morning, only a blanket and some pillows separating Spock's back from the carpet of the living room.

They ate out together, trying various cuisines, sharing bites of each other's food. They found a strange little diner that imitated Earth's America during the late 1950's (in stylization, not prejudice) and served nothing but cold foods from around the galaxy. Jim really liked his cold soup, with mango and some blue Andorian fruit he didn't recognize. Spock had a heaping plate of chilled noodles made from some sort of bright red root from the Telsp Jy-Nix home world.

Jim took a bite of Spock's root pasta, only to drink a large glass of water due to the spiciness.

"How is it that a chilled root could be so spicy? It doesn't make sense." Jim marveled, after his mouth stopped burning.

Spock only raised an eyebrow, and finished his pasta, wearing another dorky sweater either the letter "S" on it. Apparently his mother liked knitting. Jim thought it was cute that Spock wore the sweaters his mother made for Jim's

They held hands as they left the restaurant, and they took the waterway out of the city. Oth had several railway like systems that traveled to its sister cities through water, in their rivers and deep ground aquifers. Jim and Spock sat together, watching the aquatic life as they went through the waterways out of the city. They went hiking through the mountains, and Jim took dozens of pictures on his personal padd.

Of Spock raising an eyebrow, halfway turned around to look at him. Of the both of them, Oth a glittering glimmer in the distance, the dual suns just overhead. Of Spock, laying on the picnic blanket, eyes closed and looking completely relaxed. Spock again, eyes open and gazing at Jim with something that excited and worried him. Of the both of them again, kissing.

They made love under the stars, Jim in Spock's lap, Spock's mouth against his throat, completely bare to each other, and the world.

Jim woke the next morning to Spock's eyes on him, trailing a hand over his face. They held each other's gaze for several long moments, until Jim leaned in with a crooked grin and a gentle "Hey there, stranger," accompanied by a long open mouthed kiss. They climbed back down the mountain, and Jim held Spock's hand all the way, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his neck, the warmth of Spock's hand in his own, and the accompanying ache in his backside due to their nighttime endeavors.

They were barely able to keep their hands off each other. Once when theey'd been out for dinner, Spock had wiped up Jim's mouth, letting his hand linger on Jim's chin, tenderness in his expression. They held hands on the waterways, when they walked back to the flat, when they fucked each other. They slept chest to chest most nights, all tangled together. Jim had even taken to borrowing some of Spock's clothes.

So deep he was in their bliss, that he was completely shocked when Bones turned back up, informing Jim that he'd been out for a good two weeks.

Shit.

7 weeks in. Only 1 left.

Where had time gone?

Incidentally, Bones' return didn't really slow or stop their love affair in the least. (If it was appropriate to call it that. They hadn't really talked about what their relationship was. Lovers? Boyfriends? Fuck-buddies? Jim didn't know. And he was more than afraid to ask.) If anything they were quieter, subtler, but that was about it.

Jim held Spock's hand under the dinner table when Bones ate with them. Jim cleaned up all the pillow and blankets and moved the love nest to what was once Spock's room. He still curled up on Spock's side, he still kissed him gently and passionately. They still kissed in the shower, fucked in the shower, two of Spock's fingers in his mouth to keep him from coming too loudly.

It was bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. Jim's heart was glowing. He was finally free to express all the feelings that had been bubbling up inside of him for months, and more than that, they were requited!

Once they returned to the Enterprise, Jim would sit Spock down and they'd have the talk, and then he'd notify the higher ups and they'd be Starfleet official.

But Jim had always been a foolishly hopeful person.

It all came crashing down the moment T'Pring knocked on their door and stepped into their flat, hard gaze cutting them all sideways.

Spock's hand immediately pulled away from Jim's, and the warmth in his eyes was gone. Jim felt cold.

Spock stood up to greet her.  
"T'Pring." He said evenly.

"I must urgently speak with you." T'Pring said. "In private." She added, eyes sharp when Jim rose to his feet

They went into Spock's room, closing the door. They emerged twenty minutes later, T'Pring just as impassive as ever, Spock, carrying his suitcase.

Jim forced a smile. "Where're we going Spocko?"

Spock's face was flat. "I regret to depart so abruptly Captain, but there is business I must attend to quickly, before our shore leave is over."

"Oh." Jim said, rising up to his feet and standing before the vulcan. "Can I get a goodbye first?"

Spock looked at T'Pring and back to Jim.

"I must leave immediately." He said quietly, voice gentle but firm.

Jim's heart went crashing to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks buckos for sticking this out! Either there'll be two more chapters or one really long chapter + an epilogue.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos, comments, and things of that nature are appreciated!
> 
> I always read over my unanswered comments before writing for the day, so they are being read and I am freaking out about them. Y'all're so nice

**Author's Note:**

> So. I hope you liked it. Questions? Comments? Complaints? Concerns? Demands for my head due to my writing being out of character???¿
> 
> The update should be posted next Sunday. Or so. Idk.


End file.
